


The Meaning of Love

by amyfortuna



Series: Season of Kink 2017 [3]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F, Fountains/Swimming Pools, Girls Kissing, Gondolin, Happy, Loyalty, Vinyamar, Worldbuilding, very light Dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-29 20:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11448051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: Meleth, a young Sinda of Hithlum, pledges herself to serve Prince Turgon, but it's Princess Idril who captures her heart.





	The Meaning of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elleth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/gifts).



> The name 'Meleth' means 'love' in Sindarin.
> 
> Also fulfils my Season of Kink square for Begging.

Vinyamar was a cold and lovely place, rich with the sounds of seagulls and the lapping of the ever-present waves. Its walls, of grey stone carved from the nearby hills, gave it a forbidding and austere look that was immediately counteracted by the warmth and comfort inside. Tapestries, a riot of colour, flowed over the walls indoors, and plush carpets were everywhere underfoot. 

Meleth could not help catching her breath in awe at the beauty of the place. She was young, and had never seen more than the scattered settlements of the Grey-Elves in Hithlum, little more than walled villages. Her decision to pledge service to Turgon, the new-come Noldor lord of her family's lands, was at first motivated less by loyalty than the desire for peace and luxury which her family could not in full provide. 

Graciously and swiftly she was led through the palace halls to the throne room, where Turgon sat in a high carved chair. He wore a simple circlet of silver on his brow, as did all the Princes of the Noldor, and beside him a young woman sat, her golden hair loose about her shoulders, a bright smile on her face. 

In after days, Meleth would say that was the very hour her heart was stolen from her breast, and the path she would walk for all of her days appointed to her. For Idril, upon seeing her, rose to her feet, made her way down from the dais, and greeted her kindly.

"Well met, Meleth of Hithlum," she said in perfect Sindarin with only a trace of an accent, and took Meleth's warm hands within her own cool ones, before turning back to look up at her father.

Meleth heard but dimly the words spoken by the Prince, words of gracious welcome and cheer. When the time came, she spoke the required vow, "I pledge myself to you, Prince Turgon, under the High King. My loyalty is yours from this day forth," but her eyes rested on Idril's bright hair and fair face. 

The days in Vinyamar passed, and ere long Meleth was established as a handmaid of the Princess herself, and a great secret told to her: that a city was being built in the mountains, where they would be safe and secure from all dangers. Vinyamar was too exposed, Idril said. 

Meleth shivered as she remembered the tales of her childhood, before the Noldor came, when as a young girl she heard tales of Melko's fiery return in the company of his Balrogs. She swore that she'd seen a Balrog herself once, and had whispered to her agemates that it was a being of pure terror, brandishing a whip of flame. It did not walk but rather glided over the land, faster than any Elf could follow, and its eyes glowed with hate and fury. 

With a shudder at the memory, she nodded. "Somewhere safe -- if anywhere is safe -- would be a blessing," she said. "A bright gem like you should be guarded."

Idril smiled, her eyes distant. "I have passed through danger enough," she said, "and doubtless will again. But Gondolin shall be a refuge!" 

When the day came that they were to travel in secret, Meleth accompanied Idril, along with several other handmaidens and a company of guards. All were armed, including Idril, who wore a set of gleaming armour and a bright sword. Meleth, too, had been training for this day, and vowed to protect the Princess with her life, if need be. 

The company passed secret and silent over the wide lands between Vinyamar and the Encircling Mountains of Gondolin. They avoided all meetings with other Elves, save one which could not be avoided. 

On the fifth day of their journey, a lone Elf, wearing his long dark hair in braids plaited with gold, rode toward their company. Idril bade the group halt, and as he came closer, she dismounted from her horse and ran toward him. When he slipped from his mount and gathered her in his arms, calling her 'niece,' Meleth sighed with relief and allowed herself to relax. She could not say why, but more than anything, she feared that Idril would have a lover.

They shared a quiet conversation, which Meleth could not overhear, and after some time, parted cheerily from each other. He gave her a merry wave of his hand as he rode off toward the mountains of Dor-lómin. 

Two days after, they came to the entrance of the secret tunnel. Leading their horses along the Secret Way, they climbed in steady silence for what seemed like hours, until at last the mountain opened up, and Meleth emerged into the broad plain of Tumladen. A white city rose in the distance, fair and fine but yet unfinished. 

Idril turned to Meleth, smiling. "You have never seen it of course, but this is the very image of Tirion upon Túna that I remember from my earliest days. My father designed it from his own memory, and all it lacks is Treelight to render it exact." 

"Then Tirion upon Túna was a fair city indeed," Meleth said, "for I have never seen its like before." She gave Idril a shy smile. "Almost as fair as the princess who will dwell there!" 

Idril blushed. Her voice, when she spoke again, had something of a quaver in it. "Yet more fair by far is the _loved_ one who shall dwell there with me." 

Meleth, used to puns on her name, gave her a bright smile. "I shall dwell with you, so long as you have need of me!" she said lightly, and wondered why her heart was pounding in her breast. 

Time in Gondolin seemed to pass at a different rate than it had outside. The city, once finished to the peak of perfection, lacked no amusement, no celebration, no seasonal festival. And between the festivals, there was work for all who dwelt there, whether farming, weaving and sewing, hunting in the Encircling Mountains, the ever-present guard duty, or those who did the work of maintaining the city's infrastructure, and many other tasks besides. 

Meleth, when she was not required to attend to Idril's needs, found delight in looking after the city's children. In a city so small, there was need for all to do some tasks, and so any children older than five years were given over by day to the city's nursery so that their parents could go back to work. Among many others, Meleth enjoyed spending an afternoon now and again watching over the young ones as they played in parks, or if it stormed, in wide marble halls. 

Yet by night Meleth always returned to Idril's wing of the palace, where she and the other handmaidens had their own rooms near the princess. And often Meleth thought that Idril loved her more dearly than her other maidens, for she often asked her advice and aid alone rather than ask them all, and heeded her words more than all the rest. 

A summer like many other summers left Gondolin awash in shimmering heat. All was still and silent in the streets, for few cared to stir abroad during the hottest days of the year, but kept near to their cool homes, wafting fans, bathing in fountains, and eating little other than fruits. Idril herself went laughing, clad only in scanty undergarments, white and thin, into the fountain-pool in her private courtyard. 

Meleth hung back, unsure of her welcome, and when Idril rose from her first plunge into the water and beckoned with her hand, her mouth went dry. Soaked through, Idril's garments were clear enough that she might as well have been wearing nothing, and the sheer fabric clung to her, outlining hardened points of nipples, the gentle curve of her stomach, and the golden hair between her legs. She stared in awe, mouth open, and after a moment, Idril climbed out of the fountain and crossed the courtyard to her, dripping. 

"Why do you not come into the water with me?" she asked softly, laying a hand against Meleth's face. 

Meleth closed her mouth, unable to suppress a gasp of relief at the cool touch. "I..." she breathed, hardly able to speak. 

Idril laughed, dropping her hand from Meleth's face to take her by the hand, and then fell to her knees, looking up at Meleth with a look that mingled merriment and devotion. "Oh my beautiful _love_ ," she said, "must I beg of you to join me?" 

Meleth looked down at her, and was suddenly seized by some mischievous spirit. "If it is your desire, my princess, to beg me, then I will fulfil your pleasure." 

"Will you?" Idril asked, eyes dancing. "Then, I pray, Meleth, sweetest of all the maidens of Hithlum, fairest of all the maidens of Gondolin, most beautiful of all the maidens of Beleriand, come with me into the cool waters, that we may slake each other's thirst and be satisfied." 

"You beg very prettily," Meleth said, somehow restraining the wild laughter welling up inside her, threatening to break forth. She bent down to Idril's upturned face, intending to place a kiss on her forehead but Idril moved too quickly for her and suddenly caught her mouth with her own, throwing her arms around her shoulders and raising them both up to stand again. 

For a long while Meleth sank into that kiss and time seemed to pause altogether. She was lost in the sensations of Idril's mouth, cool and sweet, moving softly against her own lips, her dainty tongue pressing inward over Meleth's lips and teeth, the feel of her body pressed against her own. Her dress was becoming wet, but she cared not. She was becoming wet too, filling up with fire in all the parts of her body that she had explored in her long and lonely nights. 

"I grant your prayer," she breathed as Idril broke off and retreated a little to stare at her, wide-eyed and breathing hard. She had never unbuttoned a dress so fast, and lay it aside on the nearest surface. She was wearing the merest undergarments herself due to the heat, and with a tug at the fastenings that bound up her dark hair, sending it loose and tumbling down her shoulders, she caught Idril's hand, and together they ran to the fountain, pulling each other in. 

The water was several feet deep, just enough for Meleth to stand comfortably on her toes, though Idril was out of her depth, and clung to Meleth, laughing. The spray from the fountain above them was a shelter and a comfort, a wall of water that cascaded down, shielding them from anyone who might trespass.

Idril leaned forward and kissed Meleth again. This time Meleth was aware enough to respond, and did so, holding Idril close to her, sliding a hand under her thighs to bring her closer, her whole body trembling with desire to have her as near as possible with no barriers between. 

Meleth peeled off her own sodden top after a moment, flinging it she knew not where, and coming back to embrace Idril again, who had raised an eyebrow and followed her example. They met skin to skin, both gasping aloud at the feel of each other, and Meleth thought to herself that never before had anyone's touch felt so intense, so meaningful. There was some loud clamouring inside herself that demanded only more, and more, that would not be satisfied with just touching Idril's small breasts, nor by bending down to kiss and lave and suck them, though Idril made delighted noises in the back of her throat when she did that. 

"Do you want to take the rest off, too?" Idril said, gasping, already beginning to yank at her own brief garment. And Meleth understood that what she felt, Idril was experiencing too. 

"Yes," she breathed, and after a moment's awkward wriggling, the tiny garment floated away, and she was bare before her princess, only the water separating them. 

Idril pushed her hair back out of her face, and flung herself forward into Meleth's arms, slippery and glorious. She shone with beauty then, her eyes alight, her skin radiant, a smile on her lips as she pressed her mouth to Meleth's neck. "Let me touch you, fair one," she said against Meleth's skin. "Let me bring you bliss."

Meleth could only nod frantically, and Idril's hand slid downward, cupping first one breast, then the other in her small hands. Over the generous curve of her stomach Idril's hand passed, and dipped down to caress her mound, her fingers lightly sliding over the soft hair that grew there. One finger pressed between her nether lips, brushing against her clit lightly, but it was enough in her aroused state to make her see stars. She leaned back against the curve of the fountain pool and abandoned herself to sensation, Idril's body pressed up against her and in her arms, Idril's hand working clever magic on her clit, Idril's mouth pressing kisses and small bites to the curve of her throat. 

Before long, pleasure overwhelmed her senses entirely. Each touch to her clit narrowed her entire world to only that, and all she craved was to feel Idril's touch, again and again. Her hips, not quite under her control, chased the hand that stroked her, and small delicious whimpers and moans fell from her mouth. 

It became too much, and bliss crashed down on her in wave after wave of sensation, her whole body thrilling, her thighs clenching, and toes curling. Her hands around Idril's waist clutched her close, and Idril laughed in her arms, drawing back her hand only after wringing the last shudders out of her. 

"Meleth," Idril breathed as she opened her eyes, softly, sweetly. " _My love_." 

Meleth smiled, her eyes dancing. "No, my princess, the _love_ is mine!"


End file.
